Do You Know What You Are?

There are caterpillars on our tree. Hundreds of them. In clumps up and down the trunk and limbs. We keep seeing more with every turn of the head.

Already many are leaving their group, headed for fresh spring leaves. Other eggs have yet to hatch. We’ve caught them at their very beginning.

And I just want to get close to each and every fuzzy one of them and whisper, “Do you know what you are?!?”

If I were to pull the DNA from one of them, a scientist would not be able to tell if its donor were inching up a tree or flying through the skies. For the caterpillar is, even now, a butterfly.

He just doesn’t know it yet.

He will go through two complete life transformations to get his wings. Caterpillar to Cocoon. Cocoon to Butterfly. It will be strange. It will be dark. It will feel like an awfully strange way of being. But he couldn’t stop the process even if he wanted to.

It’s in his DNA.

What about you? Do you know what you are?

A child of the king. A sinner saved by grace. A new creation in Christ. Your very best you just waiting to emerge.

You WILL be transformed. Maybe even twice. Maybe more.

And even when it’s dark, uncomfortable, confusing, awkward, and just plain weird & yucky, EMBRACE IT.

No matter how this moment feels, the outcome is secure.

You can only and ever be a butterfly.

You already are.

 

“How does one become a butterfly? You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar.”
-Trina Paulus, Hope for the Flowers

Even Coaches Get the Blues

An email put me in a foul mood yesterday. It wasn’t really the message per se, but something about it tipped me over to a place of “screw it” — weariness. I felt defeated. Sad. I wanted to cry.

I ate 2 donuts instead. And I still wanted to cry.

By the time I got home, I was ready to let loose. So I did. Tears. Words of frustration. “Poor me.” What the? “It’s not fair!” A fully catered pity party with all the temper tantrum trimmings.

I let the frustration and despair have its time to make its case to the rest of the committee of the minds that make up the complete me. We listened without interupting. Or judging. Or calling ourself bad names. Or trying to talk ourself out of the feelings.

For about 20 minutes.

Then I took a shower, changed clothes, brushed my teeth. I retreated to a quiet place and listened to this song from Jeff Deyo’s album Saturate, aptly named for moments like this when I really needed to soak in the words. Eyes closed. Heart refilling moment by moment.

And for good measure I skipped a couple of tracks ahead and played this one … singing along, dancing in the privacy of my room. Feeling fully alive — ready to emerge and face the important tasks of the evening. Like making dinner.

Refreshed. Renewed. Saturated in Grace.

In short…

  • Don’t stuff your feelings (with donuts or otherwise) — when they can’t have a space to be, they tend to linger, fester, and get really yucky.
  • Set a time limit for the feeling to be heard
  • Thank it for its input
  • Clear your mind, hit reset, and move on

How about you? What’s your go-to get-out-of-a-funk routine? Tell me about it in the comments below!

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